"I don't ordinarily do stuff like this, you know."
The chorus of ambient music began to repeat and the volume was so loud he struggled to hear her correctly. He raised his voice and said, "Clarify."
"Walk up to strange men in bars and ask for a chat. It's not something I usually do."
"Then why have you done it now?"
The woman, Amanda, glanced back in the direction from which she'd come. "I don't know."
Sarek took another sip of his water and studied her. Many women had approached him in the past week to engage in idle small talk and pose intensely personal questions, but her demeanor was unique. She was the first who hadn't seemed deeply interested or impressed by his existence and it was for that reason he'd agreed to let her have Vedek's seat.
"You don't have to talk if you don't want to," she said, bringing her drink's straw up to the corner of her mouth.
He greatly appreciated her remark but it only made him even more curious about her desire to occupy a seat at his table. "Why come ask to sit with me if not to speak with me?"
She looked over her shoulder again. "It's complicated."
"I can appreciate that."
"I appreciate that you appreciate that." She gave him a tiny smile and studied her hands. Her fingers drummed along with the rhythm of the music. "Thank you for letting me sit with you."
Approximately fifteen seconds of silence passed between them before Sarek asked, "Is it routine to play music at this volume in places such as these?"
Her head tilted to the side, her lips spread into a narrow smile, and the skin around her eyes wrinkled. The tempo had shifted again and several more instruments had joined the fray, turning it into a discordant din.
"I guess so. The truth is, I don't come out to bars all that much. I don't drink very often."
"I had thought the purpose of this type of establishment was to socialize. How can anyone be expected to do that if they can barely discern the words of another person, even one sitting in close proximity?"
"Maybe that's the point," she shrugged, slurping down half of the amber liquid in her glass, leaving the tops of the round ice cubes exposed to the air. "Maybe it's a convenient excuse to force strangers closer together."
Glancing around the room, he decided there might be some truth to her hypothesis. Most of the bar's patrons were arranged in pairs or very small groups and despite the generous size of the main room, many people elected to stand so close to their companions that they were physically touching. Vedek was speaking directly into the ear of the orange-haired woman he had met twenty minutes earlier, his tongue within striking distance of her neck.
His new tablemate began swiveling her thin straw in the remainder of her drink. The sour odor tickled his olfactory senses, causing him to wonder if her cocktail had gone rancid.
"Your drink is quite pungent."
"You can smell it?" she asked, raising the glass halfway between the table and her nose.
Even though he knew Vulcans had a superior sense of smell compared to many species, he was mildly surprised that she could not. "Yes. It smells of an organic acid."
"No kidding," she laughed, taking a deep whiff. "I can sort of smell it when I try."
"And you find the odor appealing?"
"I don't know that appealing is the right word. It's sour, but it's a whiskey sour. That's kind of the point—to mask the bitterness of the whiskey."
"What is whiskey?"
Her brow furrowed. "It's a kind of liquor. You know, alcohol?"
"Which particular compound?"
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"There are many compounds that are classified as alcohols."
"Oh, uh, the one that gets you drunk? Ethanol, I think? I don't really know all that much about chemistry."
"I see. So you consider whiskey to be bitter?"
"Very."
"Fascinating."
Her eyes widened and she uttered a two-syllable laugh. "Is it?"
"You have exchanged currency for this drink, yet you do not seem to prefer either of its principal ingredients. Why drink it?"
She folded her hands on the tabletop and replied, "Because it's more exciting than water. And it gives me courage."
He pondered what she might have to fear. This place was an assault on the senses, but he could discern no obvious threat. "Explain."
The cacophonous song ended abruptly and because both of them had been forced to elevate their voices to be heard over it, what she said next seemed akin to shouting in the sudden relative quiet. "It's hard for me to talk to complete strangers in a bar."
Several people at nearby tables turned to look at her and despite the dimly-lit room illuminated by green and purple lights, he could see red color streak across her cheeks. Two of the young women she'd arrived with howled with laughter from their places at the bar.
"Anyway, I guess, um, I should go. Thanks for letting me sit with you," she mumbled. She said something else, but her words were lost to the roar of another song.
She began to push her chair away from the table and he also rose in accordance with Vulcan custom. it occurred to him that he did not want her to leave. Of all the humans he'd met thus far, she was easiest to converse with. Their discourse was polite, simple, and informative. Perhaps most importantly, she did not seem keen to exchange details of their private lives.
Vedek and the orange-haired woman had migrated to one of the couches by a wall covered in a long mirror and appeared quite besotted with one another. It was logical to conclude he had no intention of returning to their table in the near future, so Sarek could contrive no reason to remain in this location. "Would you prefer to talk somewhere else?"
"What?" she shouted, leaning closer toward him.
"You indicated it was difficult for you to communicate with unfamiliar individuals in a bar. If you prefer, we could relocate elsewhere." He sometimes struggled to interpret human facial expressions, there was no questioning the surprise in her features. "Uh, well—" She cast yet another look at the two women at the bar. They were no longer looking in Amanda's direction and laughing, but were instead studying the screen of a PADD.
"You know, it might be the alcohol talking, but sure, why not? Where do you want to go?"
"I am not well acquainted with this city," he admitted. "Where do you recommend?"
"Do you like coffee?"
Many people in his office consumed the unique tea called coffee and Petra often asked if she could get him some whenever she passed his cubicle, but he had yet to actually sample it for himself. It would be a minor breach of etiquette to accept refreshment from a woman who was not his mate or a close relative. "I am unsure."
She flashed a wide grin. "Because you've never tried it or because you're taking time to make up your mind?"
"The former."
"There's a coffee shop about a block away from here," she explained, pulling her PADD out of her bag to pay her bill. "And if it turns out you hate coffee, they have other things. Tea, juice, water. And if nothing else, it's quiet."
"That will be adequate."
She laughed and gave a small shake of her head. "Well, I'm happy to provide an adequate experience for you."
He stepped aside to allow her to lead the way to their next destination. Sarek briefly considered informing Vedek of his plan but decided against it when he discovered the man's association with the orange-haired woman had progressed to a level of intimacy that any traditional Vulcan would regard as obscene in a public space. He had no desire to interrupt or confront his companion in the throes of such passion, so he followed Amanda onto a bustling street without so much as a nod in Vedek's direction.
The yellow sun was sinking fast into the horizon, casting shadows and cool hues onto the scenery. Packs of people wandered in all directions, crossing streets and sidewalks with no semblance of order, much to the chagrin of slow-moving vehicles. Amanda was unfazed. She deftly weaved between the masses, aided by confidence and her small size, and it was all Sarek could do to keep pace with her.
They turned off the main thoroughfare onto another street where the crowds were much thinner. Once around the corner, they encountered two Vulcan men walking hand in hand, laughing to each other. Both possessed human-style haircuts and one had a neatly-trimmed beard, the other had dark purple hair and a ring in his nose. Both faltered when they encountered Sarek and he briefly wondered if he had ever been acquainted with them or if they recognized him. The S'chn T'gai family was very well known, especially in Shi'Kahr.
Sarek paused a step and the man on the right smiled and raised his right hand in the ta'al and said, "Live long and prosper."
The other man dropped his partner's hand and did likewise and Sarek gladly returned the greeting. Despite their very eccentric manner of dress, they were the first Vulcans he'd met in Austin to offer this exchange without any prompting, which sent a ripple of nostalgia through him. He repressed it and just as quickly as the men had stopped to acknowledge him, they rejoined their hands and continued on their way.
Amanda had stopped several paces ahead and was wearing a peculiar expression on her face. "You know, I tried that with a Vulcan guy on a bus when I first got here and he blew me off."
"Clarify."
"The whole Vulcan greeting thing," she explained, holding up her hand and parting her fingers into a V-shape. "I guess I just assumed it wasn't a thing Vulcans in Austin did."
He held up his right hand to mirror hers, grateful she would try to honor his culture. A thin smile snuck onto her lips and she shrugged. "Live long and prosper?"
The inflection in her tone was more indicative of asking than telling. He replied, "Peace and long life."
She smiled again but it caused him no discomfort, unlike when the women in his office smiled at him. They dropped their hands and continued on their way. "Are you familiar with Vulcan traditions?"
"Not really," she confessed. "I learned a little bit in social studies class about logic and Surak and whatnot, but until I moved to Austin, I never actually met a Vulcan. But the Vulcans here, they—" Her words abruptly halted and she cast a sidelong glance at him.
"Continue," he urged.
"I don't want to say anything inappropriate out of ignorance."
"The only way out of ignorance is through education. Perhaps it would be better to pose a question rather than a statement in this case."
"Fair enough," she grinned. "Okay, so when I learned about Vulcans in school, I pictured someone more like you, not like the guys we just ran into. But the Vulcans I've met here seem basically like humans. Why is that?"
Sarek nodded. "It would be illogical to attempt to speak on behalf of all Vulcans in this city, but Austin is home to many V'tosh Ka'tur."
"What is that?"
"Not what," he corrected. "Who. Literally translated, V'tosh Ka'tur means Vulcans without logic, though it is a term casually used to describe any Vulcan who doesn't firmly adhere to Surak's teachings, not only those who reject logic entirely."
"So they're like Vulcan atheists?"
"I had thought atheist was a term reserved for someone who does not believe in some form of supernatural being, force, or power as a creator or controller of existence," Sarek replied. "Surak's teachings offer a rational investigation of truth, which I believe renders them closer to a philosophy than religion. Though I admit my command of Federation Standard is imperfect so perhaps I am mistaken in the precise definitions."
"Really? You speak Standard better than most of the humans I know."
"It is not my first language and I rarely spoke it on Vulcan. I consider myself functionally fluent, but I occasionally find it difficult to discern nuances in vocabulary."
She stopped outside a green concrete building with large, circular glass windows. The interior was small and packed with eclectic furniture, from sofas and armchairs to low tables and irregularly-shaped benches. Warm light bathed the handful of patrons in an ochre glow.
"This is it," she declared, opening the door.
He was greeted by a rich, humid aroma and the soft melody of instrumental music. Sarek greatly preferred this place to the one they'd left.
Amanda escorted him to a long bar. Mounted on the wall behind it was what appeared to be a menu, though he recognized very few of the words. Options such as cappuccino, macchiato, and café au lait defied the phonetic rules of Standard as he understood them.
They took their places in the queue, which gave him time to witness the process of making coffee. Sarek marveled at the specialized machinery that appeared to involve steam. Just as he was wondering what temperature coffee was served at, Amanda said, "I love this place. Coffee from a replicator tastes fine, but there's something special about having it made the old-fashioned way."
"I am unsure what to order," he admitted, turning his attention back to the complex menu.
"I've had everything here at least a dozen times and it's all great."
"The greatness of a thing is relative and usually a matter of opinion," he replied.
She raised her eyebrows and shrugged. "True. But I will say coffee is an acquired taste for most people. I would probably start with something flavored."
Sarek studied the menu, unable to discern which of these drinks were served with added flavor or what that flavor might be. He was considering ordering a caramel macchiato because he knew caramel was a Terran confection, but when Amanda stepped up to the counter and asked for a large mocha latte, he decided it would be polite to emulate her and ordered the same thing in a smaller size.
The man behind the counter began the intriguing process of mixing their drinks. Sarek was quite engrossed in watching the machine froth the white liquid into foam when Amanda said, "I come here a lot."
"I had deduced that," he replied, without taking his eyes off the steaming appliance.
"Really?"
"Yes, you indicated you enjoy this establishment. Your exact words were, 'I love this place.' Furthermore, you admitted to having ordered everything they sell at least twelve times, and assuming you only order one beverage per visit, based on a menu featuring—" Sarek paused, scanned the board on the wall, and continued, "—sixty-three individual items, you have frequented this business on at least 756 separate occasions, which I believe may objectively be considered 'a lot' in this particular scenario."
Amanda's mouth slowly fell open. The man who was making their drinks stole a glance at Sarek out of the corner of his eye, then made eye contact with Amanda. They both smiled. Sarek wondered if basic arithmetic really so humorous.
As he soon learned, coffee was served at a very high temperature, but the drink was so saccharine and delicious that Sarek drank it readily. He took a slow sip to avoid scalding the inside of his mouth and announced, "I do not find this bitter at all."
Amanda took a sip from her own cup. "Mochas are pretty sweet. Do you like it?"
"Very much."
Another smile emerged on her face, this one different than the others in that it seemed to stretch onward into her eyes. "I'm glad. Anyway, you want to sit down?"
They tucked themselves into a booth in the corner by a window. Sarek busied himself observing the activities of the humans in the shop, content in the silence. Amanda—what peculiar names humans had!—was not.
"You seem pretty good at math."
"An arbitrary observation."
"I guess," she nodded, craning her neck to look out the window.
His mathematical abilities were exceptionally good. Not rising to the level of genius, perhaps, but certainly well above average compared to his peers at the Vulcan Science Academy. Not that he was employed there any longer. It pained him to think of the fellowship he'd left, then baffled him that he had trouble suppressing his anguish over the loss of his career on Vulcan. Why was he allowing his thoughts to become disorganized?
He took another drink of his mocha latte and attempted to focus, but momentarily got lost in his enjoyment of the physical sensation that accompanied every swig of this delightful concoction. After traveling down his throat and into his stomach, the hot liquid seemed to continue on toward his extremities. He felt warm and as long as he concentrated on the warmth, he felt content, despite all the deep, dark thoughts of T'Rea and his father and the meeting with the chancellors.
"So what do you do with those amazing math skills?" she asked, not bothering to look in his direction. "Are you an engineer or—"
"I am currently lead cartographer at Cary Cartographic," he interrupted.
"So, you make maps?"
"I assist in estimating the topology of space in distant parts of the Alpha and Beta quadrants based on astrometric data collected from various labs and space stations throughout the Federation."
"That's interesting," she said, finally tearing her eyes away from the window. "I've never been to space. I've always wanted to go."
Sarek took another sip of his drink, dismayed by how little of it he had left. He blinked several times. His head felt wonderfully light. "What prevents you from traveling off this planet?"
"Time, mostly," she replied, cupping her hands around her drink. "I spend most of my time either in class, studying, or interning at an early childhood learning center."
"You are a student," he acknowledged. "What do you study?"
"Elementary education. I want to be a teacher."
They were engaging in the human custom of small talk and for once he did not find it tedious and burdensome. He learned she came to this coffee shop nearly every afternoon on her way to a childcare center where she worked in the evenings, supervising young children whose parents were occupied outside the home. He told her he had only relocated to Earth from Vulcan thirteen days ago and had just completed his first week at his new place of employment. Information flowed back and forth readily, that was until she asked what made him want to become a cartographer.
For no reason at all, he nearly admitted the sordid details of his self-inflicted demotion and hasty relocation to Earth. Why was he suddenly so willing to be so forthcoming with this stranger? The silence hung between them as Sarek struggled not only to answer her question, but also to grasp what was happening to his mind. Amanda watched him closely, which only made him feel self-conscious. Why was he feeling all these feelings?
"I'm just impressed by what you do is all," she murmured, taking another drink of her beverage. "You're clearly very smart. I can barely pass physics. In fact, I should be studying for a physics exam right now but my friends dragged me out."
Sarek blinked. "You study physics?"
"Yes, I needed another math credit and I registered late and the classes I needed for my degree plan were full so they let me substitute physics and I hate it," she sighed. She offered him a thin smile. "Don't suppose you tutor?"
He was about to explain to her that he had a professional degree in astrophysics from the Vulcan Science Academy when her eyes suddenly grew wide.
"Is something the matter?" he asked, looking around for some sign of danger.
"Uh—no. Um, can I—do you want something else to drink? Another mocha?" Redness rose in her cheeks.
He prepared to tell her that according to Vulcan custom, it was somewhat unusual for an individual to wait on a another unless they were relatives or employed expressly for that particular purpose, but she was already sliding out of the booth. "I'll be right back. I'm going to go get myself another coffee."
She tripped on her way out of her seat, catching herself on the table. Humans were so peculiar.
"Who is this guy?" she thought as she listened to him explain that his human coworkers were a source of near constant confusion.
He had been so uptight at first. There was simply no other way to describe a man with perfect posture and a shirt buttoned to his chin sitting in a bar nursing a glass of water. Then he had delivered that savant-like display of estimating, or rather, calculating, how many times she'd visited this coffee shop, and her opinion had changed a little bit. He was fastidious but he was smart.
Now tucked into the overstuffed booth at Pete's Place, he seemed to have transformed yet again and she had no idea what to think of him. His rigidness had given way to sociability and she found she didn't mind the conversation. It flowed easily and he was a very interesting person at his core.
If she didn't know better, she'd think he was drunk. Not falling over drunk, but certainly buzzed. His speech had slowed slightly and began to exhibit more noticeable inflections in tone, making him sound more natural and less stilted. Meanwhile, the benefit of coffee and time had rendered Amanda all but stone-cold sober.
"So what made you want to be a cartographer?" she asked, giving her cup a half twirl between her hands.
"I didn't. There was—" He wavered. Obvious conflict spread across his face, sending Amanda into empathetic distress in response. She needed to change the subject and now.
"I'm just impressed by what you do is all," she mumbled. She took another drink of her mocha and added, "You're clearly very smart. I can barely pass physics. In fact, I should be studying for a physics exam right now but my friends dragged me out."
He gazed at the table. "You study physics?"
She explained how she had gotten roped into taking a physics class and joked, "Don't suppose you tutor?"
His eyes darted side to side and she was about to tell him she was only kidding when the bell above the door rang, heralding the arrival of a new patron. Her heart must have skipped about a dozen beats when she saw who it was.
Adam was here. Adam. In the year she'd been coming to this shop, she'd never seen him in here once. It was only two blocks away from the learning center, but he lived in the opposite direction—she wasn't proud of how she knew that but she did—so it never occurred to her he would walk out of his way to get a cup of coffee at this late hour.
She sunk down into her seat but she was facing the door and he was bound to see her sooner or later. What could she do? He had let her off early to study and now here she was with some Vulcan guy in a coffee shop. What would he think? Her face was on fire and her heart threatened to pound its way out of her chest.
"Is something the matter?" Sarek asked, looking around the shop.
"Uh—no." Her cup was still half full but she was pretty sure he'd already polished his off. She could go hide in the bathroom and pray Adam was getting his drink to go, then she could swing by the bar and get Sarek a refill and no one would ever be the wiser. "Um, can I—do you want something else to drink? Another mocha?"
He glanced at the unfinished drink in her hand and she knew what he was about to say. Unfortunately, Adam's head began to turn in her direction and she blurted, "I'll be right back. I'm going to go get myself another coffee."
Her plan might have worked too, if she hadn't gotten her ankles crossed under the table. By some miracle her coffee cup remained on the table and she managed to catch herself on the edge of the booth rather than fall face-first onto the stained concrete floor.
"So much for keeping a low profile," she thought dryly. When she stood up, there was no question Adam was looking directly at her.
He crossed his arms and smiled. He smiled. Had he seen her fall? Had he seen her get out of the booth? Deciding she had no other choice but to approach him now, she quickly straightened herself and did her best to casually stroll, not pitifully stumble, in his direction. When she was halfway there he cocked his head and said, "Hey 'Manda."
"What's going on, Adam?"
A tiny voice in her head was screaming at her to be cool. What was Adam thinking? What was Sarek thinking?
"Thought you were studying physics?" He winked. She swooned.
"My roommate decided I needed a night out after working most of the week," she muttered, her mouth instantly dry at being called out.
"I'm just giving you a hard time," he laughed. "I remember my college days. They were only like five years ago, but you know."
She laughed. "I've never seen you in here before."
"Oh, I come to Pete's every once in a blue moon," he said.
"And of course it had to be tonight," Amanda thought helplessly, daring to look in Sarek's direction. He was still facing the wall.
"So, is this a date?"
Amanda nearly choked. "What?"
"The guy you were sitting with?" he explained. "Are you on a date?"
For a brief moment, she thought he was asking her if their chance encounter in a coffee shop counted as a date, then a second later, her heart was being crushed under the weight of disappointment. Adam nodded toward Sarek, playful curiosity plainly written in his eyes.
"We—uh—we just met," she stammered.
"Ah, so it's new."
"Uh well—it's um—"
Why not just tell the truth? Because the truth was pathetic, obviously. Was she really supposed to say, "Well Adam, my roommates' friends dared me to go talk to this stiff dork in a bar and I did and now here I'm in a coffee shop with him because I only slightly preferred his company to theirs and I don't even know his last name and all I've wanted for the past year is for you to ask me out?"
Adam gently patted her bicep. "It's ok. You don't owe me an explanation. I think it's cool that you're open-minded about interspecies relationships. A lot of people aren't, even in Austin."
Suddenly she was cool for dating a Vulcan guy? It was hardly a secret that Adam was dating a Vulcan woman. T'Vara, the tallest, chicest woman Amanda had ever met in person, often waited for Adam in the lobby of the learning center at closing time. The line shifted and he moved to the counter to place his order, leaving Amanda to wonder whether she should let him think she was casually dating a Vulcan guy. Very casually, of course.
"Amanda?"
She wheeled around, horrified to discover Sarek had migrated from his place at the booth to join them in line. "H-hey, Sarek."
All of her internal panic alarms were shrieking at full volume. Adam turned toward them and it was evident from his body language that he was expecting an introduction.
She closed her eyes and started. "Uh, Sarek, this is Adam. Adam, this is Sarek."
"Great to meet you," Adam said, delivering a warm smile. He parted the fingers on his right hand into a V-shape and asked, "Should I offer one of these?"
Sarek hesitated and gave a small nod, then lifted his hand to return the gesture. "Live long and prosper," both men said simultaneously.
"I work with Amanda at the learning center," Adam explained.
"He's my boss," Amanda added faintly.
"Yeah, we work together, so no worries. I'm not trying to steal your girlfriend away." He tacked on a little laugh to the end of his sentence but it did nothing to ease her mortification.
Amanda wished she had hands capable of digging a hole right through the copper-colored concrete floor so she could crawl in it and die. Why would Adam say that? She should do something, but what? Should she correct her boss? Play along? Any words to fill this awful silence would be better than nothing. She couldn't bear to look at Sarek. No doubt he assumed she told Adam they were dating, which must make him think she was sad and desperate.
The barista handed Adam his medium black coffee and he raised it in their direction. "It was great to meet you, Sarek. You both have a great night."
"You too," she managed to squeak.
She barely remembered ordering two more medium mocha lattes. When they returned to their seats in the booth, Sarek took a long drink of his mocha and asked, "What did he mean when he called you my girlfriend?"
Amanda felt too emotionally destroyed to be deeply affected by this fresh round of embarrassment. She opened her mouth to explain that her boss was just confused about their relationship when he added, "Would 'woman friend' not be more appropriate? I am fairly certain a girl refers to a female who has not reached sexual maturity. And are we friends? I would have thought the word 'acquaintance' was more fitting."
All she could answer with was a stunned, nervous snort. She threw her hand over her mouth and tried to keep from roaring with laughter. He didn't know what a girlfriend was. He seemed to think it was literally a friend who was a girl. And he had explained his confusion using the term "sexual maturity." Who was this guy?
"Why is my question so amusing?" he asked, downing a third of his mocha in one go.
She shook her head and exhaled slowly to compose herself. Was it worth explaining that she wasn't actually his girlfriend and adding to her humiliation? No, it probably wasn't, especially considering that after tonight, she'd probably never see him again. She took a long sip of her coffee and replied, "I'm just being an illogical human. Don't mind me. And you're probably right about the 'woman friend' thing. Language is weird. And we can be friends if you want. Or acquaintances. It's up to you."
Sarek bobbed his head in agreement and finished the remains of his mocha in three huge gulps.
"You really seem to like mochas," she mused.
He peered through the small hole in the coffee cup lid, smiled the tiniest of smiles, and said candidly, "I do. Very much."
Amanda smiled back and shook her head to keep from laughing again. As quirky as he was, she was actually halfway enjoying her night out with this stranger who was so clearly adrift in a strange land.